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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (good fiction books to read .TXT) 📖

Book online «The Children of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (good fiction books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov



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initial fascination with the supernatural forces behind him with genuine terror. He had honestly sensed someone's presence behind his own back, but instead of friendly, it seemed to be neutral. Or so it seemed to him. He could not decipher his intentions in any way. He could just feel his whole invisible aura. The pendant of Arthusson that he wore around his neck was still some protection, and so was the ring of Bon Ra, but he didn't want to Ennoy these higher powers with his own presence. He was far from the idea that they would bestow him with greater powers than the current ones, which was why he had such high hopes for his novice. It always had to be known that the new and fresh blood bound to the afterlife weighed far more than his old priestly one.

- "Where will my sick ambitions take me?," he whispered to himself. "I can feel the higher powers beginning to be displeased already. And I grow weaker every day. There is no time to lose. Zontul has already charted his own destiny. The responsibility will now be his, and I will pull the strings from the darkness of the shadows."

The initial stages of the ceremony had passed, and the Emphoriles had clustered around their future lord. These ethereal creatures, full of sweetness but also of divine humility, were like the Vestal Virgins of old[8]. They provided the face of his holiness and power.

- "Place him on the altar," the eldest ordered. "The blood of Mas Gan must bind our souls to Arthusson. An hour sooner."

Kazuk Mon was the only one aware of the so-called 'Unholy Dimensions' because he had been there himself. But he had shared absolutely nothing to anyone. That was the way it was supposed to be. They would have thought him crazy. And the mystery would be lost, and with it his own head. What a pity!

Zontul's blood stained the hard obsidian on which he was laid. The piece of rock must have weighed more than a ton and a half. He could feel that he was going to die, his blood was draining. They had cut off his right hand and he would now be known as the marked "Mag Tu". The power had to be paid with a part of himself!

- "He's still a child, but it's about time he entered the adult world," the archivist whispered. "The ritual should be completed tonight."

The pilgrims even crawled up the endless steps of the ziggurat. The human tide would have nearly swamped it all, but the Emforiles, who were raw warriors, raised hercuxes[9]and killed many. Blood dripped down the steps. Everything went straight under. But the battle scene made no impression on anyone. Everyone just kept coming.

Kazuk Mon went near his novice.

- Hang on, I'm with you, let the reans of the order be your guiding light.

Barely a word was spoken and they turned a lazy shade of green that caressed the dark purple horizon. They were exactly twelve.

- Praise be to Arthusson!

The fiends were already ruling over the people. The ecstasy caused a real melee, and someone roared:

- Judgment Day has come, repent, sinners! There will be no mercy for your transgressions! It is not too late! Otherwise your souls will be lost forever! You will find no rest!

Kazuk Mon hurriedly led his protégé out of all this carnage. This could even roughen and cause the death of the new Mag Tu. The Emphorils couldn't keep them away forever, so Kazuk Mon was using mercEnaries as well. There were two or three platoons of ghost warriors that had remained deposed since Governor Elmbaum's reign. Some of them had simply agreed to Kazuk Mon's terms out of nowhere and were guarding him discreetly. But even so, the archivist was not at ease. He knew that as long as he held the religious power in Tarash Duk, the Archistratus would hesitate to remove him, but if his legs wobbled-who knew?

THE ARCHISTRATUS

CHAPTER NINE: THE ARCHISTRATUS

 

If there was any semblance of paradise on the planet Zegandaria, it was definitely the district of Synthros, the richest in interon fuel deposits. It was so beautiful and intoxicating. That was why it had fallen prey to greedy interests. After Governor Elmbaum fell there was a real need for someone to take over the leadership, as Imgradon was not that force of the past.

The Archmage was mostly a fat gourmand and a maniac, but with the seeming decorum of a genleman. He took all the contraband in memory of the late Gordon and handled his duties brilliantly. There would be no question that he had become perhaps the most well-to-do Zegandarian alive, with a fortune in excess of a billion credits. But he had also made many, many enemies on his way up. And that was not to be underestimated.

The Archpriest was a man in his fifties. Physically robust and a glutton for carnal pleasures. He was also Kazuk Mon's only competition. But the two never crossed swords. The truth was, despite his immense power, he used the Archigist to disguise his own personality. There was no point in justifying that life brought him no pleasures. Only a few threads connected him to reality, and if they broke, that would simply be the end of him. Deep down he knew that things sooner or would eventually lead to the so-called "Last Gate". It was anyone's guess exactly what was behind it, but the Archist's secret goal was nothing short of finding out just that. He was deliberately misleading Kazuk Mon and keeping him in fear, but somewhere deep down he knew that his own survival depended on the answer to this question. Otherwise he was finished!

The Archistratus had deftly taken advantage of all the turmoil when so many people were trying to retain power in the most unfortunate way possible, but he was swimming in his own waters and trying to get out, even though he knew he was doomed from the moment he was born.

He owed his enormous wealth to secret speculation, but above all to his extraordinary intellect, which, in certain situations and under very certain conditions, rivalled even acknowledged geniuses.

Wherever the Archistratus lost ground under his feet, there was always someone else to feather his cap. Thus he always remained hidden! This he did with particular virtuosity, but sooner or later he knew that once the pawns were exhausted he would be the only one left on the chessboard. And then all the infirmities of his soul would be revealed. "Well, maybe the others are the same rubbish!" he thought, not as an excuse, but as a statement."

His art consisted of secretly prolonging the life of his pawns, but that couldn't last too long. Sooner or later he would step on a crooked foot. And perish!

He had won more than one or two trade wars thanks to his agility.

Kazuk Mon had no suspicion of the Archist's weaknesses, for to him he was an inscrutable ideal and a very strong personality, but sooner or later he would have to call him to account in turn. But, he dared not even think it for fear of the Archistratus eavesdropping on even his own thoughts, though the latter was more than a little ludicrous.

The Archistratus stood completely alone in a huge hall, eating and drinking to his heart's content. He liked to ponder over seemingly obvious things and come to some rather crazy and even ridiculous conclusions. He lived in his own perfectly ordered and super-closed world where his every move was calculated to the hundredth. Yes, such a man he was.

His friends were quite numerous, but one had only to look into their relationships to discover peculiar dependencies sustained by a bond thinner even than a horsehair.

But now the Archist didn't care. He had simply procured vast quantities of "The Sunset of the Guarrons", and also the finest roast of Seburnagian tyrfan, which went for at least ten thousand credits a kilo on the black market, and was munching willingly.

- "People like Acustro are a real rarity," he liked to philosophize. "They definitely won't exist soon. Too bad he died like a dog. He was the creator, not of a Hell, but of a new evolutionary thought. And they declared him a pathetic consumer. It was just bad luck. That's it!"

The hall was absolutely empty, and there weren’t even any servants, since the Archistratus liked to serve himself. Thus the whole discussion was conducted with some imaginary interlocutor. He was especially careful to arrange the various dishes and rare drinks brought home from different parts of the universe.

- "What's life worth to us if we can't eat a little," he sighed. "And to drink as well."

THE EMBORIAN ZONTUL

CHAPTER TEN: THE EMBORIAN ZONTUL

 

Being a novice is very different from being a full-fledged Magus Tu. Everything changes before your eyes - even your perceptions. You are now a kind of higher being. Or at least that's how you should appear to others.

Emborian went back to his bedroom. He felt rejuvenated. So he was still a kid who needed someone to wipe his snot. Yes, it was true that he gave himself importance around his superior, but that was just pro forma - he didn't want to lose his trust. He wasn't sure he could survive on his own.

- "Being Mag Tu isn't as cool as I thought," the boy cried. "But I gave my word and I sealed it with my blood!"

He suddenly felt quite lonely. He remembered what his mentor had told him, and now he clearly realized that he could have any one of his emphorils. But Kazuk Mon had explicitly advised him that it was in the interest of his own safety to keep them away as much as possible. The Archpriest had recommended that if he were so inclined to carnal pleasures he should use the common laywomen, and only in a pinch the noblewomen.

Kazuk Mon himself would have been in big trouble when he found out that one of the Archpriest's nieces was actually among his favorites. Fortunately the girl wasn't experienced enough and kept her mouth shut. And Kazuk Mon was much younger and stronger, while the Archistratus was just getting into politics.

The Archivist had since adopted an iron rule. He didn't go anywhere so-and-so, and he didn't do anything so-and-so. He shrouded himself in mystery and secrecy. What else could he do? He began to watch his enemies closely. And they were not few.

The Duchess of Learnia, who

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